


A Zombpocalypse Runs Through It

by lextenou



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-01-13 13:37:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1228408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lextenou/pseuds/lextenou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zombies? In Storybrooke? Emma wakes to find her drive in movie horror come to life, and the entire zombie horde is gunning for one brain - Regina's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Quiet Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Post curse breaking. Town line remains intact. Magic is back. Written for S.

When the apocalypse came to Storybrooke, it did so quietly, in the early hours of a peaceful Sunday morning. The birds didn't have time to begin chirping before the low tremor of vestigial moans resounded through the clearing just outside of the town limits.

Leroy was the first to spot them. The bench had looked like a good place to take his nap. If it also happened to have his empty bottle beneath it, rattling loudly against the concrete as his foot struck it, that was just a coincidence. The clatter of the glass turned their attention to him.

No one heard his screams. It was too early for that.

By the time the sun began to shine it's merry rays across the town streets, the earliest risers began to gather that there was something desperately, drastically wrong. One early morning jogger, formerly a guard at the castle, barely managed to escape the amassed throng.

The phone rang shrilly in the still bedroom. Low rattling groans were too distant to rouse the sleeper, instead inserting themselves into soft dreams of forbidden touch. One callused hand wrapped around the phone, and with eyes still closed against the morning light, a gruff sleep soaked greeting emerged.

"H'lo."

"No time to explain. There is a mob of the undead headed directly for the Mills house."

Emma's eyes snapped open at that. She filed away the knowledge of the caller's identity - Whale - and sat up abruptly. Rules. She needed to know the rules. There were always rules.

"Can they be killed?" She rose and strode to her closet. This was going to get messy. She'd need to pack extra clothes for once she got to Regina's. She tore through the clothes available, discarding option after option. As comfortable as that tshirt was, it would also absorb the blood and viscera of whatever she was about to be up against.

"Only the thralls. If they've turned any of the townpeople, try not to kill or maim them too badly. If I can reverse this, they'll probably keep whatever injuries they receive while undead." She rolled her eyes at that. Great. She'd have to be selective in her targets instead of fighting indiscriminately.

"Weaknesses?" She pulled a form fitting tank on. It would keep her from chafing without restricting her, and would be light enough to prevent her from sweating too much under the rest of her clothing.

"Hit the brain to stop them. I don't know how many there are, and I don't know if they're resistant to magic."

Emma sighed deeply. "You're an asshole."

He chuckled dryly. "I'm also the only one who can stop this. Good luck. You'll need it. Oh, and don't get bitten. It's transmitted by their bites or their saliva, I can't tell which yet."

As he hung up, presumably to return to whatever the hell he was doing to stop this apparent invasion, Emma found precisely what she was looking for. She pulled on the snug and supple leather pants she'd bought ages ago, and grabbed the gloves she rarely wore. The black leather would work well to keep her knuckles from skinning against whatever was exposed out there. She flipped through her jackets, pulling out the trusty red as she dialed backup, her feet stomping into a pair of sturdy boots.

The call was picked up after two rings, the familiar masculine voice coming through in clear tones. At least it seemed lines of communication were still fully up. "Emma?"

She strode from her room down the hall, her jacket shrugged on as she walked. "No time. Zombie invasion, Whale's working a cure, Regina is about to get swarmed. Mix of thralls and townspeople." She pounded on the doorframe and shouted at the inhabitant. "Up and at 'em, c'mon. Zombie apocalypse happening, you need to get your people in order." She returned to the phone, speaking rapidly as she knelt to tie her boots in sharp, aggressive motions. "David, I need you to get over here and escort Mary Margaret wherever she needs to go to get the message out. Keep her safe. People need to stay inside as much as possible. Anyone who's been turned can't be killed or its murder. Any injury they get while turned will remain after they're cured, so try not to kill anyone."

Mary Margaret rubbed at her eyes sleepily taking in the crouched figure before her. "What's this about an apocalypse?"

Emma turned fully to her, a wry grin on her lips as she held up a finger. "Two seconds." She returned to her phone conversation and nodded as she listened, finishing with the laces of her boots. "Yeah, I'm in a rush so get here as quick as you can. I'll let Mary Margaret fill in the rest when you get here."

"Start at the beginning." Emma shook her head at Mary Margaret's question and stalked to the window, drawing back the curtains. In the street below, a shambling figure dragged a heavily broken leg behind it, the trail of blood and ichor a jarring painting against the neat asphalt. Shaking her head, she pointed to the scabrous wretch.

"That is apparently what's happening. I don't know who or what, but somehow we've got an army of the undead walking our streets. Whale's working on a cure, but wasn't exactly talkative." Mary Margaret stared at her with wide eyes.

"That is insane."

"Welcome to my life, Mom." Her emphasis on the final word illustrated her point capably, triggering a wince from Mary Margaret. It couldn't be helped. They had to have their heads in this in order to get through it.

"Right. So we need to keep the people safe." The mantle of responsibility and leadership fit well on her. Emma was certain that somehow, something would be worked out and both Mary Margaret and Regina would be happy. She frowned slightly at her own thoughts. That had been happening entirely far too frequently. Since when did she care about what Regina felt beyond keeping Henry safe? She turned from the doorway and walked back to her room, needing to finish her preparations.

"Yes. Regina's not going to be any help in getting people to listen. One of the few things Whale actually did manage to bring himself to say is that whatever this army is, they're headed straight for Regina's." Mary Margaret stiffened. "Yeah. They're both in danger." Emma rubbed her face briskly, the leather of her gloves still cool against her skin. She pulled her hair back and pulled an old Sox cap from the back of her closet. She pulled it on, the brim facing backward. A spare hair tie went into her pocket, just in case. "From what he said, this is a mix of some kind of reanimated thrall army, and turned Storybrooke citizens." She finished tucking her hair under the hat and turned back to Mary Margaret. "Anyone who's been turned will recover completely once whatever the hell this is gets broken. So no killing zombified citizens of Storybrooke, capice?" She grabbed the box at the top of her closet and pulled it down. The spare ammo would be essentially useless with the restrictions she had placed on her, but it would be better than nothing. She stuffed the full magazines into her pockets, and dumped the rest into the small but solid backpack festooned with the figure of a knight. One of Henry's old ones, apparently. Fitting. "Magic defenses are unknown but I'll see what I can do."

"You're going to her." Emma glanced over at Mary Margaret, who watched her with a shuttered expression. "You're going to save Regina."

"It's what I do." If her response was sharper than usual, she could blame the situation. It wasn't every day that a zombie apocalypse landed on one's doorstep. Surely the flutters and crackling energy along her nerves was a result of that. There wasn't anything else it could be.

"Yes, it is." Mary Margaret smiled, a large and knowing smile. Emma wasn't really sure what to make of it, but it definitely unsettled her to be on the receiving end of it. "James is on his way?"

Emma sighed, replacing the now empty box back in the closet. Even if she didn't make it back, that was no reason not to be at least somewhat neat. If she did make it back, she'd need that box in the future. "Yeah. You two figure out a way to get word out to everyone to stay the hell inside with doors locked and windows covered. No need to have people make targets of themselves unnecessarily." She grabbed a spare shirt and jeans with a cursory glance. Once she made it to Regina's she wasn't entirely sure she'd be able to change or not. "We don't need whatever this army is to be any bigger than it has to be. Radio, TV, magic, whatever, I don't care, just make sure everyone in town knows to hole up until this is fixed."

Mary Margaret laid a hand on Emma's forearm. The supple leather flexed beneath her soft touch. "Be careful."

Emma smiled and laid a hand over her mother's. "I will." With a quick squeeze, she made her way to the living room. She could have sworn she saw something Henry had left behind. "With the thralls, aim for the head. With anyone who's been turned, do whatever you need to do to incapacitate them. Maybe flashbangs will work. Try whatever you can to slow them down enough to get away." Her hand wrapped around wood and she grimaced a smile. "Keep safe. Keep the door closed and locked until he gets here. I don't know what they're capable of and I'd rather not have you find out without backup. You may have been a badass in the Enchanted Forest, but right now you're still more schoolteacher than bandit."

Mary Margaret shook her head, laughing softly. "I'll call or text if we find anything. You said it was Whale that's working on fixing this?"

"Yep." Emma rested the Louisville slugger against her shoulder. "We'll fix this. I promise." With a grin, she walked over to the window. The street was clear, only the long, disturbingly red line trailing off in the direction of Mifflin street left as evidence of what had transpired. "I've got a window. I have to go. I'll call when I get to Regina's. Or text. Whatever. I'll be in touch." Without thinking too deeply about it, she wrapped Mary Margaret - her mother - in a warm hug.

It took a moment for the slender arms to wrap around her in a crushing hug, but when they did, Emma couldn't help her smile. Quietly, strongly, Mary Margaret spoke, and Emma could see the glimmer of the woman who'd survived in the woods while being hunted. "Good hunting."

With a smirk, Emma strode from the apartment and to the front door. A deep breath later, she swung open the door, bat at the ready. A soft breeze wafted through the air, bringing with it the faint scent of smoke and putrefaction. She resisted wrinkling her nose, instead inhaling deeply. Her nose would accustom itself to the offensiveness soon enough. With the direction of the breeze, and her known objective, it was definite. The stench was strongest in the direction of Mifflin street.

Long loping strides led her toward the street. She swept her head from left to right, casting her eyes over the broad expanse of the street. In the distance, she saw a cluster of lurching bodies that leaned down toward the pavement, their wriggling hands arching for something on the ground that was hidden from her view. Glancing around, she could hear an additional scraping behind her. A single decayed form emerged from around the corner of the building behind her, one hand reaching toward her. A single eye looked glassily at her, the other swinging loosely from the remnants of the optic nerve, keeping rhythm with each uneven step.

"You are so not my type." Emma took a stutter step backwards and resumed her interrupted loping. All else aside, she and zombies had the same destination. It wouldn't really matter much if she picked up an entourage. Not that she had any idea of how she'd be getting into Regina's house just yet, but that would be a discussion for when she actually reached Mifflin street.

If she could reach Mifflin street.

The next two streets offered no further stragglers close enough to warrant a pause. The shambling forms were too far to matter just yet. The street narrowed, and she turned into an alley. Earlier in the month she'd had cause to chase a purse snatcher through this alley and remembered the fire escape. It'd be an easy and quick way to gather the way of the land. There was only about a mile and a half between where she was and Regina's house. If she kept a similar pace, she'd be able to make it within a half hour, even with these side trips for reconnisance. The most direct route would require a lot of zig zagging through alleyways and darting across wide streets. Now that she thought about it, she would probably be best served to try to enter Regina's through the rear. The trellis should give her easy access to the second floor.

The fire escape was just as she recalled, but the long smear of blood along the painted brick was not. The stench of garbage was less intense than Boston's alleys, but Boston had never had the concentrated putrefaction that was assaulting her nostrils. The dumpster that stood about thirty yards ahead, just before the fire escape, would make a proper hiding place for...

She slowed her approach, bat at the ready. Timing would be crucial.

Every step keyed her reflexes higher as she forced herself to remain loose and relaxed. This would require a split second decision making and that foot that peeked out behind the edge of the dumpster was decidedly not human anymore. Human feet didn't suddenly start pointing in the wrong direction right in the middle.

Long, slow deep breaths kept her nerves steady as she drew up to within a foot of the edge of the dumpster and stopped. Her grip remained steady on the bat, held at the ready. A low keening moan sounded approximately two hundred yards behind her, around the corner.

A flurry of motion from behind the dumpster erupted the single form that flopped onto days old garbage. Emma stared for a scant moment before her shock erupted. "Oh, you have GOT to be fucking kidding me."

At her feet, crawling across the pavement was the heavily broken and bent form of Archie, his legs and feet splayed at highly unnatural angles. If he wasn't already turned, the therapist would be dead from blood loss - that tube visibly sticking out of his leg was definitely in exactly the right place to be his femoral artery. "Jesus, Archie, what the hell happened to you?" She wasn't expecting a reply, but the arm that reached out to her at her question unsettled her. "Look, we'll fix this. We will find a way to fix this. Just...don't get hurt more. Jesus."

She stepped over him, using the bat to direct his hands away from her legs as she quickly moved out of his reach. Shaking her head, she reached up for the fire escape, pulling herself up onto the first landing with an ease born of too much practice. The clatter of her boots and the bat on the metal grating sounded loudly to her ears. She would need to find another way down after announcing her presence like that.

In scant moments, she'd ascended to the roof of the two story building. In the distance, she could see an arc of smoke rising lazily in the air. She hoped that wasn't anything crucial. The hospital looked fine, so hopefully Whale would be able to get things sorted out shortly. She turned in the direction of Mifflin street, her eyes tracking over the tops of the full trees that had begun to change color. Bare wisps of smoke were rising, most likely car fires. Hopefully Mary Margaret hadn't had any issue getting the message out. She reached into her zippered pocket and pulled out her phone. One new text was awaiting her, confirming exactly what she'd thought. The two of them managed to get the message out for everyone to barricade inside. That would only leave the early risers, like Archie, to bear the brunt of whatever wrath had come to Storybrooke.

And Regina.

Her sharp gaze raised once again toward Mifflin street. The phone was placed back in her zippered pocket, her movements making the bat tucked between the backpack and her jacket knock against the brim of her backwards cap. She loped to the edge of the roof closest to her destination. The street was clear for about a hundred yards in each direction. Ample time for her to continue on. She wasn't sure what had been following her, precisely, but it didn't really matter as long as she could make it to Regina. She dropped the twelve feet onto the flat concrete of the roof, grateful for the classic Americana style of the architecture that Regina had imbued into Storybrooke. It definitely made her half assed parkour easier. She peeked over the edge of the roof, confirming that no undead shambler was waiting for her underneath the awning. She flipped over the edge of the roof, hanging from her hands for a breath before dropping to the ground with a clatter. She rose and steadily made her way across the street, drawing the bat free of the backpack. None of the undead had so far seemed to move faster than their appearance would allow, which was a small thankfulness.

She'd always known Danny Boyle was full of shit.

Down the center of the street, a small clump of undead stared at her, their mouths opening in wordless eldritch moans. A soft oath escaped her. Regina better appreciate everything she was going through this morning. This was so ferociously not what she had hoped to hear about when she answered the phone. If he survived, Whale was going to owe her big time.

She spun the bat in her hand and loped down the street, her steady pace just easy enough to allow her to make good time without sapping her energy past endurance. There was no way of telling how long it would take for this to be fixed - therefore expending her entire energy reserve was downright stupid.

Glass shattered against a brick wall behind her. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that she was definitely being followed. Apparently her earlier attempt to elude had not gone nearly as well as she'd hoped. Shaking her head, she ducked into the next alleyway. Crossing through yards wasn't ideal, but in this case, discretion would be the better part of valor. Trying to face down a dozen of the town's zombified residents, without backup, while trying to prevent them from being hurt - that was a recipe for madness. And her own destruction.

Ducking through the alley appeared to be doing the trick to elude the undead posse, her feet stomping through the detritus that the wind had deposited against the sides of the buildings. The bright vibrancy of the fresh grass behind the buildings lay spread before her, though she paid it hardly any heed. Regina was less than a city block away. A row of trees, some backyards and whatever lay in the Mayor's front yard was all that stood between Emma and her goal.

All told, she was highly pleased with the progress she was making.

She remained pleased until she crossed through the last backyard, its halcyon appearance a stark difference to the scene before her.

A mass of swarming bodies stood before the Mayor's house, their low mumbling groans echoing against the neat houses and well kept lawns. Her rapid glance over the crowd revealed the mass as mostly thralls, with just enough familiar faces to prevent her from cutting a path through. After all, to do so would certainly prevent her from actually making entry into the house and the woman within.

The end of Mifflin Street bore no hint of ichor or shambling. It appeared everyone on the steet was smart enough to stay inside, and that she would be able to continue her trek through backyards until she reached Regina. The definite bonus of mindless insanity was the single mindedness of their goal. They wanted Regina.

Her hand gripped the wooden bat tightly. They would not be allowed to touch Regina if she could help it. Inhaling deeply, the intensity of the stench was enough to make her breath catch on an aborted cough.

She took one additional survey of the street. It seemed the throng was holding steady vigil outside the house, shuffling back and forth quietly. Every once in a while, the crack of a bone or snap of a ligament could be heard. She shook her head and remained crouched behind the hedge. It'd be easy to make her way around the street and to the house as long as she stayed out of sight.

She ducked behind the fence and began her circuitous route. She made it two houses down before a scared voice whispered at her from a second story window.

"Sheriff? What's going on?" Emma surveryed the backyard. A scattering of children's toys and a festively colored swingset served to remind her of the name to go with the voice.

"Susan? Stay inside. We're working on it. We've got it under control. Everything will be ok. Keep the kids busy and the windows covered. If you stay out of sight, they won't come after you." Emma's hushed whisper was modulated just loud enough to reach the second story window. She glanced around rapidly as she spoke, her hands twitching with the need to pound something into submission. "We will let you know when it's safe."

A short nod relayed that the quiet inhabitants accepted the speech, and the window was shut with a soft snick.

With a final glance around, Emma vaulted over the fence and landed in the next backyard. Wide scared eyes met hers through the uncovered sliding glass door. Emma held up a finger in the universal shushing gesture. The kid nodded and sucked his thumb. She couldn't blame him. If she didn't have a goal at the moment, she would probably collapse in a fit of hysterical laughter.

Zombies? In Storybrooke?

She continued her progress through the backyards, and within scant minutes was in the backyard next to Regina's. With a deep sigh, she pushed at the hedges, looking for the weakness she knew must exist there. A prickle of power danced along her nerves and her threw her head back and stared at the bright blueness of the morning sky.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

She pushed her way through the hedge, uncaring at the damage she wrought, or the scratches on her exposed face. Of all the-

A single eyebrow was arched at her crashing entrance, a wry look of disapproval greeting her through the kitchen window. Emma shook her head and strode to the back door, her bat resting on one shoulder.

A moment later, it opened, Regina moving back to allow Emma entrance into the kitchen. The door was shut behind her quickly, and Emma turned to face the goal of her quest. "Sheriff."

Emma was officially out of patience with the bullshit of her morning. Not even the way Regina was looking her up and down gave her pause. Maybe she should have broken out the leather pants sooner. "Regina. What the fuck."

A single elegantly clad shoulder raised in a negligent shrug. Of course she'd already dressed by the time Emma had arrived. It wouldn't do for the Queen to receive anyone in less than perfection. The stubborn uptilt of the Queen's chin told her all she needed to know about Regina's current mood. "I'm not about to see my home invaded when I can do something about it."

She stepped forward, the softly sweet scent of Regina's clean skin tickling at her nose. She really couldn't bring herself to care that she was scant inches away from Regina's face, her ire having risen as soon as the tender touch of benign magic had caressed her.

"You put up a shield around your house? I've been fighting my way through the town to get to you and help you and you put up a goddamned shield?" Emma reached up and placed a gloved finger against Regina's lips, forestalling the rebuttal that was sure to come. "How big is it?"

The darkness of Regina's eyes sparkled with an unnameable swirl of emotions, tightly controlled. The barest tightening around them clued Emma in to the stress that had immediately crashed down on the woman when she woke. "After I was called, I protected my house and the front yards of the two houses to either side. The rest of the street has glamour. All you see or feel from the street is a wall."

Emma stepped back, a smile of wry amusement curling her lips. She allowed the backpack to drop from her shoulders, setting it next to the back door and propping the bat against it. She unzipped her scuffed jacket, which had remained remarkably clean. The bright whiteness of the simple, form fitting tanktop beneath immediately drew Regina's eyes downward in a rapid flicker.

"And Henry?"

Regina shook her head, returning her gaze to meet Emma's. "Still asleep. We have until at least ten thirty." Emma glanced at the clock on the wall. It was just then seven thirty. "I take it Victor called you as well."

Emma chuckled and leaned against the counter. Despite the masses she'd dealt with on her way, her clothes had remained remarkably clean. At worst, her boots might be a mite dirty, but all in all, she felt she was properly attired for her early morning call on the Queen. "Woke me up better than a double espresso. I figured you'd be trapped so I set Mary Margaret and David to telling everyone to stay inside." A twitch of an annoyed smile flttered across Regina's face at the mention of the two. "Whale says he's working on a cure. You're where they're all headed, so I'm here."

Regina turned, leaving Emma with an unsettlingly brief glimpse of her reaction. Why on earth would her coming to Regina be such a surprise?

"As you can see, I'm perfectly fine. It was not necessary." The strength in the dismissal was one that Emma knew and recognized. "You may return to the two idiots at your leisure."

Emma stepped forward, shifting to stand behind Regina at the sink. Clinging as she was to her independence, Emma knew she'd have to tread lightly. Her hands remained at her side as she spoke softly. "I choose you."

Hands tightened against the sink, knuckles white against the stainless steel. "That is unnecessary."

Emma remained still, hovering behind the stiffly standing woman. "I am free to make my own choices. I've made it."

Regina shook her head and chuckled, slipping out from between the Savior and her sink. "Coffee, Sheriff?"

Emma smiled. "I'd love some."


	2. Chapter 2

The rich scent of the light roast Regina had chosen for the morning caressed Emma's senses, a welcome respite from the stench of decay and destruction that suffused the rest of the town. The oddest part of the entire thing was how quiet the town was. No birds. No barking dogs. No quiet rumble of lawnmowers. 

Just the continued vestigial moaning and grunted shuffling that had been the soundtrack of the day.

Regina leaned back in her chair, sipping quietly at her coffee. The tap of her fingertips against the cleanly patterned stoneware was more than enough to pull Emma from the depths of her thoughts and she watched. It had been a reasonably easy journey across the town to reach Mifflin Street, with the added boost of adrenaline.

"Archie was hit. I don't know who else offhand. I wasn’t able to recognize anyone else enough to make an ID." Emma rubbed her forehead, frowning. “It’s mostly thralls from what I could see. Maybe one out of ten are from here.”

A slow exhalation indicated Regina's acknowledgment of her words. "Which just leaves the question, now, of who would enact this, and how to reverse it."

Emma toyed with the handle of her mug, the warm stoneware smooth beneath her fingers. "If its reversible. We don't even know how it was put in place." Regina's snapped glare was enough to have Emma continue her thought, terrible as it was. "If this has nothing to do with magic or curses, how are we supposed to fix it?"

"In this world, zombies are fiction. In the Enchanted Forest, they are reality." As simply as it was stated, Regina's words had a profound effect on her companion. 

Emma's shoulders sagged slightly in relief. "So it definitely is magic or something." Something they could fix.

Regina nodded briefly. "Or something."

Emma’s head tilted to the side and she took a sip of the coffee, just warm enough to send delicious heat wending through her stomach. “What are you thinking?” A side long look darted her way before Regina let out a long, slow sigh.

“If it’s a spell gone wrong, we’d be able to smell it. It’d infect the air around those affected with the scent of the spell ingredients burning, strongest at the point of concentrated will.” A head shake put paid to that idea. Regina continued. “If it’s a curse, there are two ways it could have been applied.” Regina’s shoulders hunched and she stared morosely into her coffee. “Direct application, or indirect application.”

“Somehow I think it involves something a little more in depth than simply dabbing something on you to make you the focus of their shenanigans.”

A wry chuckle sounded. “Far from it.” She took a sip of her coffee, the steam curling in the air before her hair, the ephemeral nature of it highlighting the clean lines of her simply brushed hair. A single strand refused to tuck behind her ear, and Emma stared at it, deliberately focusing her attention away from Regina’s mouth. “If it was a direct spell, I would have needed to be injected with or somehow consumed the curse.” A slim fingered hand ran through her hair and Emma’s gaze dropped to her mug. 

“Which means someone or something has you in their sights.” Emma’s hands tightened around the mug, her knuckles whitening at the thought of someone attacking her...person.

"More likely is that someone has released a curse and a targeting spell. The curse to create the zombies and the spell to give them purpose." Regina took a sedate sip of her coffee, the tremble in her fingers belying her outwardly calm composure.

"Mmm." Emma swallowed a mouthful of the light roast, enjoying the feel of the warmth spreading through her chest. She set her mug down with careful deliberance, shooting a cautious smirk at Regina, who stood staring at her with wide trusting eyes. "How do we break it?"

Regina smiled slightly, her hands curled around her nearly empty mug. "True Love's Kiss didn't work." At Emma's askance glance, Regina continued. "Henry." One finger tapped against the side of her mug. "Which leads me to believe this isn't a traditional curse but something new. Something centered around an object."

"What, like some kind of voodoo?"

"If that's what makes it make sense to you, yes." Regina raised her gaze and met Emma's solidly. 

A grin broke out. "Think we can run a locator for that magical doohickey?"

Regina stared for a long moment before a slow grin spread across her face, a devilish glee twinkling in her eyes. "You're damned right we can." Regina extended a hand and grasped Emma's. Their eyes closed as building warmth between them mounted, swirling beneath their skins with each panted breath before exploding outward. A few moments later, Emma shook her head and leaned heavily against the counter. Regina already had her phone in her hand.

"Whale? Check the security office. There's something in there that's putting out a significant amount of magical energy, enough to be the cause for this." Regina listened and shook her head. "No, there should have been no further infections after its deactivated. If this thing, whatever it is, is behind this, everyone should be back to normal as soon as it's destroyed. Find a way." She allowed a twinge of annoyance to show. "I'd suggest trying to set it on fire, you do know how I love to see things burn."

With that, she ended the call and dropped her phone on the counter. Emma's shoulders sagged minutely. The minutes ticked by with interminable slowness until a text came through from Whale - object located, taking to be incinerated.

Relief washed through Emma's entire being and she laughed softly. Regina glanced at her curiously before letting out a soft wash of laughter. In a moment, they both laughed deeply and richly. The ridiculousness of their morning demanded release.

Their hands brushed. 

As if on cue, the shrilly tone of Regina's functional ringtone sounded through the kitchen. Fumbling slightly, Regina grasped the device, a flush dusting her cheeks. "Hello?" Her sudden discomposure was gone as suddenly as it had appeared and a vicious grin broke across her face. "Hello, Rumple. What can I do for you this morning?" A twinge of annoyance had Emma sweeping her mug over to the coffee pot and refilling it. She still hadn't forgiven the imp for his repeated deliberate attempts to pull the wool over her eyes. His insistence on only wanting to help always came with a price, and it was rarely one which she was willing to pay. Whatever he was offering now could be easily handled without needing to rely on him. "A throng of zombies, you say? Fascinating." Regina's mild amusement was a delight to behold. Emma turned, her mug filled, and gestured to Regina's mug with the pot. A nod came with a grateful smile as Emma refilled the mug. "I'm afraid I'm unable to accede to your request. I'm currently entertaining the Saviour."

Softly, huskily, Emma took the opportunity. "Tell whoever it is that you're busy."

"You heard the Saviour." At that moment, a wash of pure energy bathed over them. A startled squawk from the phone indicated that it had hit Rumple as well. "Oh blast, it appears we've broken the curse. Until next time, imp."

Emma's phone buzzed in her pocket as they laughed. She read the text and grinned. "They're organizing a get together. Everyone's to meet at the square. Should do well to give Granny's a boost." 

Regina shrugged. "Its not a terrible idea. Everyone needs to see that everyone else is okay." She sniffed indignantly. "I would have organized a town meeting."

Emma rubbed the back of her neck. "And looked like a million bucks while doing it, I'm sure." She glanced up toward the stairs. "Any chances we can get Henry up?"

Regina raised a shoulder. "He'll be upset he's missed the fun."

Emma snorted a soft laugh. "We can give him a minute." Pushing off of the counter with her hips, Emma sauntered toward the front windows. A flick of her wrist against the sheer fabric revealed the former throng outside the house had reduced to approximately ten, highly confused people. Gentle warmth and a soft chuckle from behind her brought a smile to Emma's lips as she turned her head to meet Regina's eyes. "Suppose we should tell them what happened." 

A brief shake of her head and a hand placed on Emma's forearm halted any forward movement she was about to make. "I'll wake Henry." A rueful grin curved her lips as Regina relieved Emma of her depleted mug. "Expect pouting." 

Emma rolled her shoulders, the bright white of her tanktop thankfully still pristine and presentable to the confused populace. "It'll take me a couple minutes to gather them and the rest. We're to meet at the school gym."

Regina gave a nod and cleared her throat. "I'll try to make this quick." Emma watched her go, the way that Regina's trousers curved around her posterior bringing a silly little half grin to Emma's face. Shaking herself free of the distraction, Emma strode to the door and threw it open, entering the street ready to perform her Saviour-ly duties.

\---

"Henry dear, you slept through the zombie uprising."

As predicted, Henry was thoroughly put out to have missed the fun as soon as Regina's soft announcement woke him. A recent play through of "Dead Island" had thoroughly enamored him of zombies in popular culture, and he had wheedled Regina into watching "Shaun of the Dead". She had promised that on his birthday, they could have a zombie movie marathon, covering "Night of the Living Dead", "Zombi 2" and "Return of the Living Dead". They were still in negotiations over whether to marathon "iZombie" or toss in "White Zombie" and the Vincent Price "I am Legend". Offers of newer movies had resulted in his scoffing.

"I cannot believe you didn't wake me up earlier!" Henry's lower lip threatened to protrude and Regina stifled a laugh. 

"Since when have you not preferred your beauty sleep, little prince?" Regina's fingers smoothed down the runaway bedhead on the young man. The flush that dusted his cheeks bore truth to her statement. "We had it in hand."

"We? Who's here with us?" He rubbed his face, shoving aside his disappointment. He could deal with unpacking that after they'd finished dealing with this.

"Your mother apparently decided to fight her way across town."

Henry's eyes widened. He swung his legs over the side of his bed, shaking himself all over. He bounced lightly on the soles of his feet and grinned at his mother. "Emma fought through zombies? And came here?"

A soft shake of her head and a brief kiss placed to the side of Henry's head accompanied Regina's quiet chuckle. "You know what your mother is like when she gets an idea in her head." An exaggerated eye roll from Regina saw Henry laughing softly. "Trust the Savior to forget I have magic."

Henry shook his head, a bemused smirk on his face. "I'll be down in a minute." He rummaged through his dresser, glancing at his mother. "Where's the town meeting?"

"Granny's." Regina smiled at the quick movements of her little prince. "Make sure to put on your boots, we don't know if there is any aftermath."

Henry nodded and continued laying out his clothes for the day. Out front of the house, Emma had emerged from the shielding spell and raised a hand to the milling, highly confused people in the street.

"Morning all. Hope you've enjoyed your morning stroll." An assessing eye had swept the crowd as Emma had reached them, noting that their clothing appeared to be their normal fall sleepwear. "Everyone will be meeting at Granny's immediately." A murmur of questions rose and Emma raised a hand. "All your questions will be answered there." She glanced down at their feet and pulled out her phone. "David? We need to get the school bus or a big van out to pick up any stragglers. Shouldn't be all that many." She listened for a minute and grinned. "Yes, safe and sound. Mmmhmm. About ten. I'll stay with them. Right. See you in a few."

The phone flipped closed. The waiting people eyed her with wariness. Emma raised her chin and smiled reassuringly at them. Before she could utter anything further, a tingle along the back of her neck told her that the shield behind her had been dropped. The steady click of heels down the sidewalk had her turning slightly, smiling at the arrival of the Queen. 

"Good morning, everyone." Regina's wry amusement brought a twitch to Emma's lips. The doors of the other houses on Mifflin were opening, dumping an array of people onto the street. Confusion threaded through the throng, but was restrained. "I trust the Savior has filled you in on the plan for Granny's." 

One of the neighbors stepped forward, a minor noble who in this land grew astonishing tomatoes. "I can give a couple people a ride." Regina's eyebrow quirked and two more residents stepped forward, offering their assistance. 

"Very well." Regina looked to Emma, her gaze captured in verdant green. A single eyebrow quick from Regina saw a nod from Emma. Henry stood at Emma's elbow, having arrived quietly after his mother. "We will expect your arrival at Granny's."

With a swirl of purple smoke around their bodies, the three of them left the quiet and subdued throng on Mifflin.

\---

"Hey, Dad." David turned at the sound of his daughter's voice, his face breaking into a wide grin as he took in the sight of Emma's stance - right thumb hooked with deceptive casualness in her pocket, her hand curled over the butt of her weapon, left hand lightly resting against the small of Regina's back, her eyes casting over the milling crowd. Her head turned and she met his proud gaze with a half smile. "We getting a food table set up? Most of these people won't have had breakfast yet."

His head dipped in the direction of the tables that Granny, Ruby and a small group of enlisted volunteers were quickly setting up long tables. "First thing she set to doing when she lowered the crossbow."

"Sheriff!" 

Emma turned, relief sagging her shoulders as Archie strode forward from an alleyway. "Archie. Good to see you."

"Have you seen Pongo? The last thing I remember was leaving the house to take him for his morning walk." The slight man ran a hand through his mussed hair. "Then I woke up next to the dumpster behind the hardware store."

She couldn't help her broad grin. "We'll find him. We've got the explanation for all this, just find a spot. We'll get started in a minute."

The cars from Mifflin street soon pulled up, followed in short order by other residents. The word had spread quickly through the town phone tree, neighbors offering rides and companionship after the oddity of their awakening. Emma glanced over to Regina and quirked an eyebrow in question. 

With an answering roll of her eyes, Regina stepped forward, her hand waving over a bare spot on the asphalt. The swirling purple smoke cleared to reveal a small stage, no more than six feet square. Without a backward glance, she ascended the two stairs and stood in the center, her arms raising to catch the attention of the crowd. Emma stood just behind her, her arms crossed over her chest. Snow and David stood nearby, Henry between them.

"Good morning. As I'm sure most of you are aware, this morning we were the unfortunate targets of a zombie incursion." Regina's magically enhanced tones rang just loudly enough to be heard throughout the square, the gathered throng murmuring amongst themselves at her words. "Obviously, this has been resolved, thanks in no small part to the brave and timely actions of Dr. Whale." 

The man nodded gravely to Regina, his tie twisted up under his left ear. He raised a hand to acknowledge the slight uptick in murmuring of the crowd. Regina cleared her throat.

"We have determined this was magical in origin and aimed at myself."

The softly murmuring crowd erupted into shouts of protestation and suspicion. Snow stepped onto the stage, next to Regina. Her hand reached out and came to a light rest on Regina's forearm. Something passed between them that Emma barely caught out of the corner of her eye. Regina nodded. 

Snow turned to the crowd. "We will not allow an attack against one of our own to go unanswered. If anyone has any information leading to locating those responsible for this heinous act, seek any of us out. You will not be harmed for bringing forward information."

The studied laziness of Emma's gaze swept over the crowd as her mother spoke, cataloging the expressions on the faces. A varied mix of shock and anger suffused most faces, with a few notable stand outs. Chief amongst the standouts were young Nicholas and Ava.

Casting her mind back over the actions of the morning, the appearance of the zombies, the results of the spell, and her son's recent obsession - in addition to the rapidly approaching birthday they shared - a low oath erupted from her. Her mother halted her next words and turned. Emma stepped forward, her hands raised in a placating gesture.

"Yeah, so, like we've said. We just want to know who did this. It doesn't look like anyone was actually hurt by this, though there were some people who were scared." Her steady look remained locked on Nicholas and Ava. The boy seemed to be turning greener with each word she spoke. "So depending on the reasons behind this, it is entirely possible that we won't pursue this much further. But first, we have to know that no one here wants any of us dead." She broke her gaze away from the kids and looked back over the crowd. Whale looked exhausted. The man had probably already been near the end of his shift when this had started. Confusion seemed to reign on most of the other faces. "Get yourselves some breakfast and check in so we know you're okay. Thanks, everyone."

She stepped back and reached for Regina, her hand wrapping around the woman's arm just above the elbow. She leaned in, her voice soft against the curve of Regina's ear. "Ten to one, this was meant to be a birthday present for Henry from his friends."

Regina shot a sharp look into the crowd, the weight of it making awkward feet shift until it found it's target. "They targeted our son?"

"Too bad for them you have magic and he sleeps in." Snow's gentle touch to Emma's back had her turning. She gave a sheepish smile to her mother. "Hey."

"Are you two okay?" Snow's eyes darted back and forth between the women, lingering slightly at the relaxed grip that Emma maintained on Regina's arm.

"Yeah, no problems here." She glanced at Regina. "If Nick or Ava come to you, try and remember that they're kids."

Snow's shocked gasp lasted but a moment before clarity spread. "Henry's birthday."

"Pretty much."

She shook her head, smiling ruefully. "Well, if that's true, at least that's one worry out of the way." Snow reached over and patted her daughter's arm. "We'll take care of this."

A few moments later, and another hand wave, the stage disappeared. Near the trellis outside of Granny's, Snow and David had set themselves up, talking quietly with all who chose to approach them. Henry leaned against the low fence next to his grandfather, listening intently to the witness accounts swirling around him. Nervous feet shuffled toward the royal couple, and Emma turned away, content that those two would ferret out the truth from the two kids that approached them.

A warm hand covered her own where it rested on Regina's arm. "Thank you, Sheriff."

The blood thundered in her ears at the soft caress that rubbed over the exposed skin of her wrist. "Anytime, Regina."

"Mm." A quietly measured look was fixated on her. She shifted on her feet under the weight of the dark gaze, her hand sliding down Regina's arm until it slipped away. Her palm felt cool at the loss, her fingers twitching. "I believe I owe you proper thanks."

Emma's head tilted to the side at the statement, her brow scrunched in confusion. "I didn't do it for thanks."

Soft laughter lilted over the remnants of the crowd, idle clusters of neighbors and friends talking through their morning experiences. "No. You never do." Regina stepped forward, her shoulders turning. "What was it you once told me? You do it because its what good people do?" One hand raised, soft fingers running over the line of Emma's jaw. "It would seem you truly are a good person, aren't you, Emma?"

"I try to be." 

"Rather fitting for a Savior." Regina's fingertips remained against Emma's jawline, sending her mind racing with unanswered questions. "Do you know what is traditionally awarded to those who fight for the Queen?"

Emma licked her lips, her mind stuttering to come up with any possibilities. "No."

"The Queen's favor."

Softly, Regina pressed against Emma's jawline, angling her with the barest touch as she leaned in. Emma's breath caught in her throat and she inhaled sharply to clear the psychosomatic obstruction. 

Then Regina's lips pressed against her own, and her mind stilled for long moments before myriad hints and suggestions that had swirled around her for months finally slid into place. The gentle, affectionate touch was over far too quickly, the ghost of the alluring mouth pressed to her own making her lean forward further, following the retreat of that benevolent kiss. Her eyes fluttered open.

Regina watched her with a curious twinkle in her eye before raising an eyebrow and turning, striding away to gather their son. Emma stood in the middle of the road, a low breeze swirling around her ankles. In the distance, birds called out their belated morning songs.

"Oh." Her eyes remained tracking Regina's progress, tracing down over the woman's back until they rested, staring at the rich curves of her posterior. "Oh, _shit_."


End file.
